By: Dvir Adani
My name is Dvir Adani and I am a volunteer EMT with United Hatzalah. I am a person who often participates in quite a few parties. Living in Israel’s cultural center in the greater Tel Aviv area, I’m no stranger to them. But tonight – I participated in a party that caused me to cry tears of joy.
The story of this particular party began a few years ago. I will never forget that evening. It was a Saturday night and I was coming back home from a trip up north when I received an emergency alert from United Hatzalah’s Dispatch Center alerting me to a serious road accident that took place in the Jordan Valley.
I was riding my ambucycle and I flicked on my lights and sirens and raced to the location of the accident. When I got to the location, I realized that this was a very serious accident and would be an intense rescue. A vehicle carrying a bunch of yeshiva students who were on their way back to Jerusalem from the north of the country turned over on the side of the road. The students were all trapped inside and were seriously injured.
I immediately notified dispatch that Fire and Rescue teams were needed to extricate the students from their car and began triage. Once the Fire and Rescue crews arrived, I assisted in extricating three of the students from the car and treating their injuries, but there were still two students trapped inside.
One of the students was dead. He was killed on the spot. The other, while alive, was seriously wounded. He too was trapped in the overturned vehicle.
I will never forget the hand that popped through what was left of the car window, begging for help. We tried to do everything we could to save his life and we finally managed to get him out. Once we did, I worked to stabilize his condition together with the other EMS crews that arrived to help. Once we did so, the man was evacuated to the hospital by a helicopter.
It was a long process of recovery for the student, but we stayed in touch. I was happy to hear that he was progressing with his rehabilitation and that he was recovering, however slowly. A slow recovery is better than the alternative. After a while, we lost touch.
A few weeks ago, I received an invitation from the past. It came in the form of a special phone call. When I answered I heard the person on the other end of the line say:
“Hello, my name is Yinon. You saved my life a few years ago. You must come to my wedding.”
I was shocked and a bit surprised to hear his voice again as it had been a few years since the last time I had heard it. The student, who lay trapped in the dark crushed car on the Jordan Valley Highway was calling me and asking me to come and celebrate his wedding with him. How could I turn down the opportunity to help this man celebrate this monumental event in his life, a life that I helped make sure that he continued to live?
When the day of the celebration came this past Sunday, I put on my best suit and went to the wedding. I was very excited and hugged the groom ecstatically. I should say, that my attire and lifestyle don’t quite match those of the groom and his guests, and quite a few participants wondered who I was. “Who is the man in the purple hair who embraced the ultra-orthodox groom?” I heard some of them ask.
But I didn’t pay much attention to the questions or looks. Instead, I grabbed the groom and we broke into a wild dance together. We danced to celebrate. We danced the dance of life.